2. Contact Info

3. Dealer Selection

If you lust for a Subaru WRX STi or hug your Mitsubishi Evo every night before bedtime, you have the Audi Ur (for original) quattro to thank. Not quattro, as in the all-wheel-drive option on your A4; but the quattro, the standalone model introduced 25 years ago–although AWD is a common factor between them. Had it not been for this innovative, square-shouldered coupe, the automotive performance landscape–not to mention international rallying and many of the cars in today’s popular video games–would be altogether different.

As with so many things in the Volkswagen/Audi/Porsche hemisphere, Ferdinand Piëch, the VW Group’s recently retired chairman, became the driving force behind the quattro’s genesis. In 1977, engineer Joerg Bensinger and others were working on a prototype VW off-roader called the Iltis. Bensinger thought the notion of full-time all-wheel drive might have relevance for conventional passenger cars, especially for those that live in wet and snowy climes. Piëch, who led product development at Audi at the time, and pre-development director Walter Treser, agreed and, ultimately, so did Audi management. Launched in the spring of 1980, the Audi quattro, so-named for obvious reasons, came to the U.S. market for the 1982 model year.

Until then, AWD had been the provenance of big trucks and serious off-roaders. The genius of the quattro was in compact differentials that would fit the confines of a passenger car, without the quantum increase in ride height found in those trucks and SUVs. A center diff distributed power to the front and rear differentials via a set of dog clutches; the latter were vacuum-operated via controls on the center stack. An integral part of the design was the use of a hollow shaft in the transmission so power could flow to both the center differential (and thus to the rear wheels) and to the front diff via an output shaft. Sounds complicated, but it worked beautifully, distributing power 50/50, front to back.

That power came from Audi’s transversely mounted, turbocharged SOHC inline-five with two valves per cylinder, rated in U.S. trim at 160 horsepower (200 in most other world markets). While 160 doesn’t sound like much, considering that 1982’s Mustang GT 5.0 was rated at 157 and the Porsche 911 SC cranked out just 172, the quattro remained a legit performer in its era. Torque output was 170 pound-feet at 3000 revs, and the only transmission offered was a five-speed manual. Steering was via a power rack and pinion, and braking came courtesy of four-wheel discs. In a cool bit of engineering maximization, the quattro’s fully independent suspension employed Audi 5000 front suspension bits–turned backward–in the rear.

The crisply folded Audi GT Coupe provided the quattro’s platform two-door bodywork. Handsome, if conservative, the look received a personality injection in the form of rectangular fender blisters to cover the increased track. Still, the effect was subtle; performance aficionados nodded knowingly when they saw one, as if not wanting to bust the secret. Besides the diff lock’s actuator switch and readout, little differentiated a quattro’s cabin from any other Audi–or several VWs, either, as too many components looked as if they came straight out of the econobox parts bin. The hard plastics and shiny materials wouldn’t pass muster in a Korean subcompact now. Cargo room aft was reasonable, and the rear seats at least earned a “+2” designation. Some European model quattros were equipped with a full digital instrument panel, another 1980’s idea perhaps best forgotten.

Today’s rallying enthusiasts’ heads bow to the west at the mention of names like Solberg, Grohnholm, and Loeb; 20 years ago’s stars included Walter Rohrl, Stig Blomqvist, Hannu Mikkola, and Michele Mouton. They, and others, rewrote WRC record books throughout that decade. The quattro won a rally right out of the gate at San Remo in 1981. In its first full year of competition–1982–the factory quattros recorded eight overall wins in a convincing domination of the championship. Mikkola and Arne Hertz brought home the 1983 World Championship, and, in 1984, quattros secured the drivers and manufacturers titles.

The competition cars got more powerful and more outrageous looking, culminating in the 450-horsepower quattro S1. Mikkola said that “the sudden surge of power is so brutal, you think you’ve been hit from behind by a five-ton truck.” A series of tragic accidents in 1985-1986 ended the reign of these hyper-powered “Group B” machines, but Audi’s point had been made and punctuated: all-wheel drive was a key to high performance–and the worse the road surface, the more the quattro’s advantage.

This 1982 quattro’s sport seat and driving position are comfortable, and the view is clear all around. The full instrumentation is businesslike and easy to read, but the plastic steering wheel feels flimsy and small in my hands. If the quattro has an Achilles’ heel, it’s a vague, graunchy shifter. It feels like a screwdriver stirring a bowl of rocks, but a deft hand will locate the right gear with practice.

I’ve never been fond of the noise emitted by five-cylinder engines; their brash thrum sounds neither sweet nor powerful. This quattro’s isn’t the former, but is the latter. MT’s June 1982 road test quotes a 0-to-60 time of 7.9 seconds, and that feels about right. Turbo lag is considerable, but meaningful boost begins building above 2000 rpm, and there’s plenty of power to work with between there and 6000 rpm. No point in pushing on to the 6750-rpm redline, as the power curve tapers and the engine gets harsh.

Because of the lag, this isn’t a motor you’d ask to pull you out of corners from low rpm. But you don’t have to, because the traction is so prodigious, you can carry speed into and through the turns. Let momentum be your friend. No complaints about the ride. It’s supple enough for long, high-speed runs, but never mushy or disconnected from the road. That, in fact, is a good overall descriptor of the quattro’s persona.

The car I drove, provided to us courtesy of Audi Tradition’s collection, wore studded tires to show off its snowy terrain capabilities, which limited its dry-road handling prowess. I know there’s yet another layer of cornering I didn’t get a chance to sample. Overall, the first-gen Ur quattro proved enjoyable and impressive, if a bit underwhelming.

Next up is one of the rare Sport quattros–but this time, a bit overwhelming. Breed a regular quattro with a pit bull on a Red Bull drip, and you’ll understand the Sport q. Audi built 224 of them in 1983 and 1984 as homologation specials. Some 20 went to the competition department for conversion to full race spec, and the rest were sold to hard-core enthusiasts. They’re not hard to spot, as they’ve been shortened–a bunch. The Sport quattro rides on an 86.8-inch wheelbase; less than a 289 Cobra’s, and 12.6 inches shorter than a standard quattro. Most of the difference came just aft of the front seats; there are no rears.

That pugnacious bod–accentuating those bulging flares–is rendered in composite materials, which saves another 175 pounds. And it’s nice when a weight decrease is met by a power increase. The Sport gets a 2133cc I-5 with a twin-cam head and 301 SAE net horsepower. The instrument panel is more driver centric than the standard car’s, and the center stack gets three more gauges. The Sport’s duds are better, too; leather trim, Recaro seats, power windows.

This motor speaks in guttural splutters and responds quickly to jabs at the throttle (hmmm…maybe I can learn to love a five). The Sport quattro isn’t quick, it’s legitimately fast: Contemporary road tests revealed five-second 0-to-60 times and a top speed of 150 plus. Turbo lag is minimal, and it’s fun to feel the differentials sort out traction. Be rough with it, and it’ll understeer. Or oversteer. Or both. Be smooth, carry speed, feed in the power, and it’ll stay neutral–and fly. It feels at least the measure of today’s best Japanese rally rockets; not easy at 20-plus.

A Sport quattro cost a staggering $75,000 when new. A perfect one today, if you can find one for sale, will set you back about a hundred grand. Many consider it to be the ultimate road-going quattro–I’m among them.

The fact that the original quattro cost around $35,000 in the early 1980s seems staggering now. Today’s STi, WRX, and Evo have much higher performance, technology, and comfort levels for around 30 grand, give or take model and equipment. They’ll run away and hide from the old master and are cheaper by miles, especially taking nearly 25 years of inflation into account. Yet had the quattro not succeeded, there would be no super Subis or Mitsus.

For creating a genre, for providing considerable driving excitement at a time when there wasn’t much, and for launching what is today a cornerstone of the Audi brand, the first quattro must be recognized as an accomplishment of major significance.

Happy 25th.

Snow PlayQuattro A2 Rally

When skiers want to get to the top of a steep run, they take a lift. Heck, you can’t walk up there. But believe it or not, you can drive there, if you happen to be peddling an Audi A2 quattro rally racer. Michele Mouton drove this one to second place in the driver’s championship in 1983. It’s stripped, gutted, reinforced, and has enough candle power on its nose to get a 747 through a midnight rainstorm. The rumbling, popping turbo five has been twisted up to about 350 horsepower. I’m strapped into the passenger-side racing bucket as retired German rally car pilot Jochi Kleint revs the motor and lets out the clutch.

Once the car is rolling and the engine’s built some boost, he floors the throttle and heads straight for the top of the snow bank. That’s up a frozen hill. On narrow street tires. No studs, no chains–just quattro-style traction. The engine bangs on and off the rev limiter, as Kleint pitches the tail out and back; we spray waves of snow to either side, laughing like fools. He spins a big brodie at the top, then heads down the bank. Another pirouette, and then we do it again. More spraying, more revving, more laughing.

This quattro stuff is amazing.

Driving the MountainShattering Records and Setting Them, At The Pikes Peak International Hill Climb

If the United States has anything that resembles the world’s most difficult rally stages, it’s the annual foray to, or more correctly up, Pikes Peak. It’s been an American motorsport staple since 1916, and a variety of quattros have taken the overall victory there. In 1985, it was the quattro queen herself, Michele Mouton, who won the race in record time. Her record fell in 1986 to Pikes Peak perennial Bobby Unser, driving a Sport quattro S1. Walter Rohrl made it a threepeat in 1987, aboard an even more radically winged Sport quattro S1, rated at nearly 600 horsepower. His record time of 10 minutes, 47 seconds remains impressive; it took another 15 years to get down to the 10-minute mark.

“…the quattro is, quite simply, one of the most delightful vehicles we’ve ever evaluated…[it is] destined to serve as a rolling testbed for a number of Audi’s future production designs…[but] for now, we’re content with the quattro. After all, sometimes a little showing off isn’t such a bad thing.”–Bob Nagy, MT, June 1982 road test.

Now

One of the performance classics of the 1980s and the start of the whole rally-as-road car genre. As a collectible, they’re cheap to purchase, although have the potential to be expensive to own. Performance still holds up, and they’re rare.

Ask the Company Who Owns One/>(Several, in fact)/>/>Audi Tradition, the company’s museum, history archive, and classic car collection, owns and maintains at least one of each model quattro. They’re used for displays, driving demonstrations, club, and yes, media events.

Why they like it: Several of the guys who fettle the company’s fleet comment on how they’re still fun to drive, especially in the snow.

Why it’s collectible: Audi of America’s records indicate that just 664 Ur quattros were sold from 1982 through 1985, so they’re rare. They’re also quick and technically interesting.

Restoring/maintaining: A quattro is an expensive car to run and/or restore. There are three differentials to look after, plus the center diff’s vacuum actuation system. Parts are available, but expensive, and may need to be sourced from Europe. Powertrains are tough if cared for. Turbos tended to get noisy and wear out; expect to replace or rebuild them every 75,000 miles. The interiors did not wear well.

Share this article in:

We’ve Temporarily Removed Comments

As part of our ongoing efforts to make MotorTrend.com better, faster, and easier for you to use, we’ve temporarily removed comments as well as the ability to comment. We’re testing and reviewing options to possibly bring comments back. As always, thanks for reading MotorTrend.com.